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I have often wondered
whether I would miss you.
Ever.
Not that I never had the chance.
Your absences
have been with me
as much as your presence,
if not more.
As solid and sure.
Yet, there was always
the consolation
that you are not so far.
That I can share
my last sip of coffee with you
if I want to.
That I can always find comfort
in your assuring embrace
if I choose to.
That I can ask you to cook for me
if I wish to.
There was assurance in knowing
that you were just minutes away.
That I don’t have to wait
if I don’t want to.

But now,
with the hours, days
and miles between us
I don’t think I miss you.
I’d never want to.
Missing you would mean accepting
that memories are all I have
to hold on to and revel.
But there are moments
to look forward to.
Moments with you.
And when I think of creating
the memories from the future
I remember you.
Then I remember the distance.
I ignore it
and go back to remembering.